


because you're the reason i go on

by letsperaltiago



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: 6k emotional wreck, A tiny bit of straight up fluff, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Camila Santiago being mean, F/M, Jake defending Amy, Oneshot, Season 7 Episode 6: Trying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-12
Updated: 2020-03-12
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:53:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23122042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letsperaltiago/pseuds/letsperaltiago
Summary: It's not long after they agree on giving trying a break that Jake and Amy have to put the pain aside and attend a big Santiago-family event. Here, running into extended family members and Camila Santiago, everything turns out okay.... Until it doesn't
Relationships: Jake Peralta/Amy Santiago
Comments: 15
Kudos: 171





	because you're the reason i go on

**Author's Note:**

> wow. this was quite the ride.
> 
> not only was episode 6 "trying" mind blowing (jake and amy making out!!) but i'm also deeply hurt for them and the struggles they're going through... thus, plus an idea of a fic with jake standing up to camila, this fic happened. also this is my first 3k+ oneshot ever so hope it's okay?!! guess we'll see heh.
> 
> please let me know what you think!  
> and come say hi on tumblr at letsperaltiago !!
> 
> xx

They’d been sitting quietly on their couch one afternoon, one where they both happened to have the day off, for once allowing them to hang around the apartment with no specific or urgent to-dos on their minds. This resulted in Amy keeping herself busy on their shared laptop, taking up a corner of their couch with her legs stretched out and feet resting in her husband’s lap, whilst Jake himself played Mario Party – he’d never say it out loud, because, in the end, it didn’t matter when it was the for the sake of their possible future child, but he’d really missed playing when the ‘way more scheduled’-Amy way had flipped their daily lives upside down.

It’d been a week, just barely, since they’d shared a disappointed glance at the sight of yet another, and for some time the last, pregnancy test in Amy’s hand. They both know a week wasn’t a long time meaning the aching in their hearts was perfectly normal. Just as well, giving them a sense of faith, the fact that they very much had each other to lean on and help manage the pain and frustration they still felt meant everything was, given the circumstances, _fine_. 

Or at least it was until the updating of her inbox notified her of a new, very specific email which immediately caught her full attention.

As soon as the letters came together, quickly deciphered by her brain to form words with meaning, said meaning sent a dagger through her heart completely paralyzing her. Even distracted by his video game he, Jake, could tell from the way the typing and clicking of the keyboard had so abruptly stopped that his wife had stopped amidst whatever she was doing.

“What’s up?” His eyes stayed glued to the tv where he was currently almost, and for once _finally_ , beating Wario in the final lap of the game. Although that didn’t last for long since his wife’s obvious lack of reply, compared to Wario catching up to him during the final, crucial seconds, raised significantly greater awareness. 

“Ames?” he tried looking this time, quickly snapping his head in her direction as to not miss out on the game, only to be met by the blank, hopeless expression on her face and still body: Something was definitely wrong.

“Hey,” this time he rushed to put down the controller, not caring about whether or not Wario would beat him again and instead using his newly freed hands to caringly rub her knee as he scooted in closer. “Amy, babe, what happened? Are you okay?”

Her empty expression, still staring blankly at the laptop screen, stayed stuck for another few beats before a small, single, torturously slow tear rolled down her cheek. This of course immediately alerted Jake even more.

“Amy,” he desperately tried to snap her out of it with a pleading, although remaining calm, voice whilst squeezing her knee as if she somehow, maybe, had forgotten he was there with her.

That’s when she finally resurfaced, turning her face to look directly at him only to reveal that there were matching tears rolling down her other, before out of sight to him, cheek. Although the last few months had been hard and had taken its toll on them both, especially her, Amy had seemed fine once they’d settled on not thinking about babies for a while: They both slept significantly better, reverted to their enjoyment of what was their usual regularities and, all in all, everything seemed back to the way things were.

So this sudden eruption of sadness from his wife, when just 30 minutes ago they’d joked around talking about what take-out, something they’d missed _dearly_ during their trying-times, they should treat themselves with for dinner that night, worried Jake _a lot._

“It’s-” she finally broke her muteness, then once again briefly pausing in silence to catch her breath like she’d been holding it. “Tony and Elena.”

Her husband’s brows furrowed with worry. He couldn’t tell what exactly she meant, which he hated, but it had struck her like lighting from a clear sky so it obviously had to be a great, sorrowful deal to her.

“What happened? Are they okay?”

With Amy’s huge family it was sometimes hard to keep track of every single member, but Jake had gotten pretty familiar with all of the Santiago-brothers and took, especially, great liking to the second oldest Tony.

“Y-yeah, they’re fine but they’re-“ her voice’s transition into whimpering interrupted her as she tried to hold back incoming tears alas quickly failing to do so.

“Jake, I’m such a horrible person for reacting like this,” her whimpering evolved further into small heaving sobs prompting Jake to, gently as to not further upset her, take the laptop away from her to get a look at whatever had triggered such reaction. His eyes wandered across the screen for a brief moment before his frame froze the same exact way her’s had just minutes earlier.

**_‘SURPRISE! JOIN US IN CELEBRATING ANOTHER FUTURE SANTIAGO’_** **,** wide and bold, screamed from the subject line of what was indeed and very clearly an email-invite to Elena and Tony Santiago’s baby reveal + shower.

A heavy sigh along with a defeated drop of Jake’s shoulders complied with the so happy yet so distressing nature of the news.

“Oh, babe…” he’d put the laptop away in order to be able to move freely before moving in to engulf his wife in the tightest hug possible allowing her to cry her sadness out into the crook of his neck, a spot which had grown to be her safe place, where she’d automatically buried her face the moment he pulled her sideways into his lap.

In Jake’s ears, not only as her husband but also being her best friend, any cry, even the smallest sniffle, from Amy Santiago was absolutely heartrending and a perfect world would be one where his wife was never hurt, angered or confused enough to need to utter these kind of sounds. In this perfect world there would be constant peace in her mind, a smile on her face and, goddamn, he wished more than anything else, a baby in her belly.

His hand, which had automatically tightened around her figure, started rubbing soothing circles between her heaving shoulder blade, the other pushing her beautiful raven locks of hair away from her face. There, to the newly exposed forehead, all while saying nothing thus giving her the needed space to cry it out all while wrapping her up in a safe presence of his own, he pressed a tender kiss. Quite a few years spent together with her had led to a lot more of maturing on his part. Suddenly he saw, understood even, a lot of the matters and issues from her perspective, one he’d before called the one of an ‘old cat-lady’. Jake had learned a lot from Amy, which he was especially thankful for during these kind of scenarios where he needed her. He took _pride_ in being needed by Amy Santiago; thus he had to do it right.

This also meant that sometimes it was better to say nothing at all. “Silence is just as powerful as words” was one of the things she’d had taught him, so as long as he got to sit with her, letting her know that he was there for her, Jake could feel calm and confident about not interrupting her crying.

It was not too long after when the sobs, shaking and shock slowly wore off and silence engulfed the two wrapped up figures.

“Hey,” he spoke softly. Silence was the only reply he got but he was okay with that. The necessity of a reply wasn’t there; her attention was enough and he knew he had it. Meanwhile his neck had craned in an attempt to get the best possible look at her face where it was still resting into the soft curve of his neck. The tiniest shuffle of her shoulder as she readjusted in his lap confirmed that she indeed listening.

“You don’t have to do anything you genuinely don’t want to do. You know that right?”

It was all she could give for now, which was okay, Jake thought, when he felt the nodding movement of her head against his neck.

“Okay good,” he paused thinking for a brief second before resolving on leaving a feathery stroke to her forehead with the length of his nose, his lips automatically taking over afterwards in one swift movement.

“We don’t have to go if you’re not _genuinely_ feeling up for it. We can just say we both have work that day.”

Beneath where his hands were continuously drawing lazy circles on her upper back Jake could tell she was thinking – hard. Then suddenly her face was no longer hiding in his soft skin, instead she rose to an upright position although remained put in his lap. With red eyes, a version of his favorite pair of eyes he hated to witness, she looked at him.

“I just...” She sniffed in the process of wiping tears off her face with the back of the hand that wasn’t keeping her stable with a hold on her husband’s firm shoulder. “If I choose not to go then it means I’m letting this _deterring_ situation get the best of me, and I just-“

As if he hadn’t already been aching for his wife and feeling utterly frustrated by the feeling that came along with it being way beyond his control, her voice, once again, started to quake, slowly and torturously breaking Jake’s heart like a disk on repeat. The following words made it out in-between tiny sobs and heaving halts from trying to hold them back.

“I can’t let it control me, Jake. I don’t want to it to define me more than it already has.”

_It_. Two letters: one word… The one, little word substituting for whatever force was keeping them from becoming pregnant contained so much pain. He cupped her face in his hands trying to fight her tears by wiping them away but alas; every time he had, new ones just dropped right in the exact same spot.

“Shhh,” he whispered pulling her back into his chest with the strong urge, and the only way he could think of to protect her from what, lately, had been the very cruel and unfair world around them. He didn’t say anything else right away once again leaving her space to continue speaking if she wished to, but all that came out of her and into his neck were small whimpers.

“It doesn’t define you, Ames. You’re bigger than this and it doesn’t change who you are. And for every single ‘me’ you say, you have to remember that I’m right here in this _with_ _you_. Whatever has happened and whatever _will_ happen is something we’re in _together_.”

Shuffling against his neck followed by the tingling sensation of her warm lips against the skin let him know that what he’d said had struck the right chord.

“Thank you,” she croaked.

“No, thank _you_ for being so incredible. And if you want to go then we will and if you don’t, then that’s alright too and we just won’t. No bigger deal than that, okay?”

He looked down to be met by a rush of relief; a tiny faint smile was once again present on her face.

“Okay.”

***

Thus it resulted in Jake and Amy, together as the unit they were, deciding to disregard what the pain was telling them to do and instead just go. A few days after their talk that afternoon, the emotional knockout upon receiving the email, Amy had looked herself in the mirror one evening and agreed with herself: no, this shouldn’t define her and therefor she wouldn’t let it.

But even then, on the morning of the baby shower, Amy caught herself feeling overwhelmed, emotions stronger than anticipated even though she was still circling around the will to admit. Slow and unconsciously, allowing her no fighting chance to prevent it, a train of pestering thoughts infested her mind. Looking at her reflection in the mirror feeling ready and put together, _pretty_ even, wearing simple makeup and one of her staple floral dresses, she suddenly _hated_ how she wished the skirt of it was draped over a round belly, one with a baby in it, rather than her usual curves.

In the midst of this staring contest from hell with her own reflection there was suddenly the sudden urge to break down all over again; give up and go back to bed like a way more manageable alternative to smiling and pretending to be okay around people who’d so easily accessed what she was dying to have. In the very same instance her jaw locked in an attempt to hold back a whimper, when her eyes blinked obsessively to wipe away incoming tears forming in the sockets, her husband, thankfully, appeared behind her in the reflection she suddenly hated so much.

“Is my favorite incredible, beautiful wife ready to go?” He wrapped his arms around her middle like it was the most right thing in the world instantly making her forget that, just a second, she’d hate that specific area of her body.

Amy could feel her jaw unclench and the tears stand down from their position on the verge to falling the minute the sound and feeling of Jake engulfed her. This was without a doubt what saved her from breaking down right then and there.

“As ready as she’ll ever be,” she sighed with a small smile looking at him in the mirror.

He nodded, understanding.

“Good. And remember: if it becomes too much, or you’re just not feeling it, then let me know. We’ll be out of there before you can say ‘Pierogis, potato pancakes and hot chocolate’.”

This turned out to be an excellent example of exactly why she needed Jake Peralta: a chuckle danced off her lips as it was indeed close to, if not entirely, impossible not to be charmed by his small jokes and overall sweetness. She then turned around hitting him with the kind of smile she knew he was always yearning for like she did for his.

“Thank you, I will,” she placed a hand to his cheek to stroke it in a small act of gratitude. “I love you.”

“I love you too, Ames. So much,” he quickly pecked her lips before sending her a tender smile.

“And I wish I could continue to stand around all day to tell you that over and over again, but I really don’t feel like being on the receiving end of that judgmental look your mom always gives me if we are more than 10 seconds late.”

Once again her point was proven: it was impossible to hold back a smile and chuckle around him. 

“That’s fair. Let’s go.”

They untangled only to lock hands on their way to the car. The 30-minute drive to Tony and Elena’s house was comfortable considering where they were headed to and how nervous Amy had felt right before leaving the house.

To her defense, with Jake’s right hand on her thigh rubbing small circles with his thumb, accompanied by their favorite jams and loud, horrible but nonetheless enjoyable singing, Amy actually forgot why she was feeling anxious about the day’s event in the first place. This especially when Jake performed ‘My Heart Will Go On’ in such a cheesy and overdramatic way, right to the point where it was almost too much since he chose to direct every word at her whilst, of course, still focusing on the road ahead. Luckily there were quite a few red lights along the trip for him to safely twist his body and directly serenade her with his Celine Dion-impression which successfully earned him loud affectionate laughter.

The mood was set and they were both ready to take on whatever the previously half-dreaded baby shower would turn out to hit them with: good or bad. Although, when they knocked on the front door Jake felt Amy shuffle nervously. Wanting to put out the fire of anxiety he could tell was sparking within her, he quickly grabbed his wife’s hand to give it a small, affectionate squeeze, telling her he was right there. They’d agreed on this and he’d do anything within his power to take sure: the baby shower would be okay.

And it had been okay.

It had been _okay_ to see Elena glow with her growing, round belly. It had been _okay_ to be surrounded by colorful balloons, cupcakes and presents. It had been _okay_ to congratulate her brother and his wife, genuinely meaning it from the bottom of her heart. It had been _okay_.

Until it _hadn’t_ been.

All the guests, which included eight Santiago-siblings with respective partners plus the future grandparents and a couple of Tony and Elena’s closest friends, were all spread throughout the living room in the suburban home. It had been a couple of hours of mingling, opening gifts and snacking on color-coordinated goods, and although one of them would occasionally stray off or get pulled aside by a familiar face, Jake and Amy mostly stuck together and admired the buzzing brunch-party from a safe distance. This when they weren’t catching up with Amy’s siblings or giving Tony a helping hand with small tasks so that he could enjoy the festivities alongside his wife.

Everything was going smoothly making Amy consider how she’d completely blown the entire thing out of proportions before coming. In retrospect she could see how it had been silly and a waste of her own energy to be so scared of feeling like the odd one out on a day that was Tony and Elena’s day. No one would actually care about her lack of a growing baby-bump when they were here to celebrate someone else’s.

Or that’s what she’d thought.

“Amy, ” Elena’s mother had called out sending them a warm accommodating smile as she snaked her way through the crowd to where they were currently resting on the couch while enjoying some kind of sweet sparkling wine.

“Hello, Mrs. Cardea,” Amy greeted politely as she got back on her feet to hug the slightly familiar face. Tony and Elena had been together for quite a while, even before getting married 3 years prior, which meant Elena’s mother was no stranger. On the other hand it’d been a while since Amy had last seen her, which meant the introduction and use of last name was more out of politeness and routine than anything else.

“It’s nice to see you again, dear. It’s a luck that I frequent your mother quite a bit so that she can let me know how you’re doing.” 

“I’m sorry it’s been so long,” Amy returned the sweet sentiment of the older woman’s remark. Beside her she could feel Jake follow her lead standing up and reaching out to shake the newcomers hand.

“Hi, Mrs. Cardea. I’m Jake Peralta.” He paired the greeting with his best polite smile.

“Oh,” the older woman’s eyes widened. “So _you’re_ the famous boyfriend of the only Santiago-girl? ”

The couple let out a collective chuckle exchanging tiny, secret smiles in reaction to the unintentional mislabeling.

“Husband, actually,” Jake grinned proudly raising his hand to show off the silver-band which, with two years of marriage and an even older love, felt like natural, extended part of his body.

As if the revelation had come out of nowhere, which puzzled Amy since her mother must’ve mentioned their marriage to Mrs. Cardea _at some point,_ if they spoke regularly, like the woman claimed, Mrs. Cardea’s smile transitioned into a lightly confused gape.

“My oh my,” Mrs. Cardea seemed to be at a loss of words but quickly picked herself back up and within seconds the smile, warm and genuine, was back. But even then Amy could tell something was off. “I can’t believe Camila didn’t tell me. Must’ve slipped her mind.”

The wedding of her only daughter _slipped her mind_? Amy hoped to God Elena’s mom was right, a feeling of anger slowly coming to a simmer inside of her. Although she couldn’t let people around her know, she had the strong urge to storm of to talk to her mom or pull Jake aside to rant, but for now she bit her lip and put on a brave, now very forged smile.

“Yeah…” Amy tried to give the off-roading conversation a nudge back on track which Jake quickly picked up on, prompting him to reassuringly grab her hand. “… I’m sure she just _forgot_.”

“I’m sure it’s a mouthful with so many kids to keep track of,” Mrs. Cardea cackled obviously not picking up on the iffy mood surrounding the topic.

Then the feared, for a while forgotten, bomb was dropped.

“Speaking of kids, especially now that I know that you’re married: when are you going to give this fine young husband of yours his first child?”

First of all Amy hated how she made it sound like she would be making Jake a _favor_ by falling pregnant. Secondly, if Amy thought she’d already gone through the peak of the pain from what they were going through at the moment, then she was dead wrong. Right then and there, being slapped across the face with those words, Amy felt her heart completely fall apart. More frustrating than not being physically able to make a child was being reminded of it by a, basically, stranger who knew nothing of what they were going through within the four walls of their home.

Beside her, out of the corner of her eye, there was no doubt that Jake had flinched along with her, evidently clenching his jaw in order to suppress a biting reply. If it hadn’t been for the crowd around them she would’ve collapsed in anger and tears, meanwhile he would’ve definitely snapped at the poor Mrs. Cardea. 

“We’re just getting settled into married life and we’re in no rush. It’ll happen when it happens.”

To Amy’s relief Jake did his best, as always, to stay calm and advert the situation in favor of them both. He squeezed her hand, firmly believing what he said even though it also happened to be a half, tiny white lie since now was no time nor place to tell a stranger that ‘ _Well we’ve been trying for the past eight months, hopelessly and with every trick in the book, but nothing seems to work so right now we’re kind of just trying to get through the pain of quite possible not being able to conceive._ ’

Even though Jake, Amy included, thought he’d adverted the situation nicely apparently Mrs. Cardea saw this from a completely different perspective. The older woman’s before sweet smile faltered to one of a rather skeptical nature, implicitly telling the couple that this was _not_ what she’d expected to hear.

“Well…” the older woman recomposed herself to speak even though all Jake and Amy wished for was to get away from the conversation and the radical road it was currently being forced down. Amy knew her family was one of old traditions, and even though she’d learned to deal with it and, to _some_ extent, respect it, she in no way wished for her and Jake to take part in it. They were their own family.

“Just make sure to not wait around for too long, Amy. I mean, compared to your brothers, it has already taken you _quite some time_ to evem get married: you wouldn’t want to risk waiting for, well, _too long_ , to make a baby.”

Amy thought she’d just barely survived the worst but now, this, was the equivalent of an emotional apocalypse slowly shutting her entire being and will to do, try, speak, anything, down. Her surroundings seemed to darken letting her know it was only a matter of crucial moments before she’d be shut down completely and beyond social criterion. The simultaneous ache in her head, her heart, her entire body actually, was too overwhelming to ignore anymore.

“I’m-“ she barely managed to utter whilst staring into nothing because it was better than to look at anything in this room that reminded her of what she for some ungodly reason couldn’t have. “You’ll have to excuse me.”

With the blunt announcement that she was leaving, not even caring about what Elena’s mom thought of her sudden switch, Amy detangled her hand from Jake’s in order to rush away to wherever she could turn into a decent hiding place. For the next few hours or perhaps forever. Suddenly, like an epiphany, all she could seem to think about was getting out of the house and lock herself inside their car. There, at least, there was no risk getting found since, apparently, no one knew she was married and, even less, had a champagne-colored midsized Sedan. It was bulletproof.

Or, it was, right up until life seemed to have other plans for her, because getting to the car turned out to mean ‘going through the kitchen’ and ‘going through the kitchen’ meant ‘stumbling into her mother’, who then was about to reprimand her for not paying attention to where she was going. the sight of tears streaming down her daughter’s face caused her to halt though.

“What’s wrong, mija?”

_Wrong_. The word haunted her: _she_ , Amy Santiago, was wrong: her body was wrong, biology was wrong, giving up was wrong, continuing to try was wrong, all in all everything was wrong. It had to be when something she wanted more than anything else in the world seemingly wasn’t meant to be hers. However, her mother, the one person in her life who was, more than anyone else, supposed to make her feel right? She made her feel, if possible, even more faulty.

Seconds prior to the colliding all she had been able to think about was getting the hell out of the house. But now, seeing her mother, triggered something angry, spiteful even, within her, setting free all the words and thoughts her brain, unknowing to Amy herself, had formed.

“What’s wrong, you ask?” Amy heaved with broken, wet eyes shooting daggers. Her brain short-circuited making Amy unsure of exactly what had been said past this point. “You’ve kept my marriage a secret because you’re embarrassed.”

“What are you talking about? Why would I be embarrassed?”

“Because your only daughter, the only chance for you to experience ‘your little girl becoming a mother’, has been married for _two years,”_ she over-articulated the last two words as emphasis. “And she still hasn’t had a child of her own, and to make matters even worse? She’s not even pregnant. That’s, apparently, embarrassing.”

Amy felt a figure rush up behind alas the heat of the moment resulted in her not even caring one bit. Tears were impairing her sight and all she had to get through was another few points – then she could leave.

“Ames, honey,” the figure behind her was Jake gently mumbling into her ear, carefully, as to not startle her before placing his hands on her waist. “We can go if you want to.”

He could tell his mother-in-law looked rather pale, more tight-lipped than usual, but had yet to put two and two together. That was until Amy spoke up again, chest heaving with all the sadness and sobs she was fighting so hard to repress.

“I’m not embarrassed, Amy,” her mother spoke to her own defense, of course paired with the look of pity, a look Amy hated. “I just don’t understand why you and Jake want to wait so long? Why is it that you must do things differently than everyone else just to prove a point?” 

Not only did this strike Amy twice as hard as anything else that’d been said that day; this time Jake was not only aching for his wife but also for himself. This was bigger and more personal than Camila Santiago having high expectations for her kids, wanting them to shine and succeed at everything. No, this time it was wholly inequitable discrimination of her daughter’s way of living her life, included Jake and the things she struggled with when no one else was looking.

This was also drawing a line; the very last straw.

Jake broke in, stepped out from behind Amy to instead take a protective stand in front of her. It was no secret that Jake was terrified of his mother-in-law but if there was something which could make him not give that the tiniest care in the world, then it was the second she dismissed Amy they way she just had.

“First of all, with all due respect, Camila, you have no right to deprecate the things Amy, neither the things _Amy and I_ , do and do not chose to do. It’s her life and while you’re her mother, which is just one of many good reasons why you should support her unconditionally, you have no right to talk her down the way you are right now.”

Angry was not a word Jake was very familiar with but by now his regular voice had definitely transitioned into a defensive scowl, eyes shadowed by anger and jaw clenched whenever he wasn’t speaking: he was not about to let another one of Mrs. Santiago’s jab at his wife slip by – especially now that it concerned such a delicate matter.

“All Amy wants is to please you, but you never actually take the time to acknowledge anything she does and at some point, which I strongly believe is now, it has to _stop_. You can’t reprimand her like she’s a little child living a life as if it was an open, always accessible book to you. You don’t know half the things she does and goes through: you take no interest in hearing about or understanding the bad, the hard, the frustrating… And the incredible things she does? You ignorantly dismiss them. She has no chance of winning with you.”

Jake was almost chuffing from lack of air caused by combination of exuding anger and the fast talking. He too was now getting emotional feeling the weight of the past months pushing down on him. Leading up to today’s events he’d remained extra strong and supportive for Amy but, truth be told, he was hurting just as much as she was.

“As a matter of fact, if you must know, Amy and I have been trying for a baby for quite some time now… And it’s been very,” he paused to swallow and compose himself before continuing, ”hard.”

A lump started to form in his throat, obviously affecting the pitch of his voice quickly prompting Amy to grab his right hand with both of hers from where she was still shielded behind him. Before him, when she finally seemed to understand what Jake was _really_ telling her, he could clearly tell how Camila’s expression changed from cold, probably annoyed by her daughter’s “rowdy husband” meddling, to shocked and actually showing emotions.

“ _Oh_ , mija,” she looked past Jake to get a hold of her daughter’s hiding eyes. “I had no idea. You should’ve told me… It doesn’t have to mean that you can’t have a baby. There’s probably just something you’re doing wrong, and I-“

“No,” once again Jake was quick to interrupt her, the word bursting out his mouth out as a snarl, before she could finish the sentence.

“Amy’s been doing everything perfectly right, and even beyond, so you don’t get to tell her otherwise.”

Silence enveloped the entire kitchen whilst the life of the party buzzed in the background. 

Camila stood frozen in the very same spot she’d been caught in for the past few minutes. Here, after what felt like a lifetime, Jake made up his mind and decided that there was nothing else to say. Getting the hell out of there to take care of his wife was of higher priority than waste time, hopelessly and with no gain, trying to talk Camila to her senses.

He turned around to look his wife directly in the eyes, searching for some kind of sign that would tell him that what he’d just done was okay – it was Amy’s mother, after all.

And although tears were still washing down her face Amy also couldn’t help but send him a small affirmative nod. If she hadn’t been too busy crying she’d tell him that, once again, him acting by instinct had paid off.

“I want to go home,” she whispered.

He took another good look at her to make sure that she was okay for now, then quickly replied with a whisper telling her “Of course. Let’s go,” before leading her away and out of the house by the hand. Once he’d gotten her settled in the car Jake ran back to grab their coats, in the meantime also coming up with an excuse to Tony and Elena about Amy being sick thus having to leave. Jake was unsure of whether or not either hosts had overheard the fight but nonetheless they both nodded understandingly, thanking Jake and Amy for the gift and for coming.

So yes, the baby shower had been okay until it hadn’t been.

***

In contrast to the ride to the party, the ride back home was very quiet with minimal to no words spoken. Amy knew she could speak up, if she wished to, but then the act of staring out the window, watching the city grow thicker and thicker by the mile, simply seemed more manageable. Once in a while Jake would throw a glance in her direction to make sure she was _somewhat_ okay while also keeping in mind that the urge to get home and hold her didn’t cause him to drive irresponsibly.

Immediately upon arriving back home, the minute the door closed behind them trapping them in their own little cocoon, Amy carelessly, and very unusually, Jake couldn’t help but notice, kicked of her shoe before heading in the direction of their bedroom. Although Jake was fast, managing to grab her wrist before tugging her back to wrap her up in his arms. This, hopefully, would prompt her to react however she needed to.

And indeed, the moment she was tugged into him and her face could hide from the world in the crook beneath his neck, she did. The heaving movement of her shoulders came first, then the muffled sobs.

Jake, knowing that the silence on the way back home was both of them fighting a war within themselves with only a of question of not if but when they’d burst at the seams, could only hold her as tight as physically possible whilst rocking her back and forth as his own eyes started to prick.

During his life time Jake Peralta had undergone many kinds of pain: anything from, compared to this moment, that is, stupid bagatelles like watching the woman he was pining for be with someone else to being wrongfully accused and sent to prison, where he lived a daily life in a constant state a fear. Nonetheless it was still crystal clear that nothing, not by a longshot, had ever been able to tear him to shreds like seeing his wife suffer from something so out of his, or anyone’s, control. 

“I wish I could take your pain away,” he mumbled into the top of her head, his voice tearful and heavy from despair.

Another sob, this time smaller, escaped her body before the next sound he could hear was her taking a deep breath.

“I know,” she sniffled as her shoulder rose in fighting another incoming cry in the meantime also allowing her lungs to stock up on just enough fresh air. Then silence. The quietness, the silence after the storm, that came after felt post-apocalyptic, when in reality they were in the eye of the hurricane: in the clear but surrounded by chaos.

But perhaps that was good enough for now.

“…And I yours, Jake. God, I wished.”

“I know,” he smiled, through tears, into her hair before burying his face in it. Nothing felt safer than her – even during her darkest hours. In the end he felt reassured as long as she was there by his side and he by hers. 

“But one day at a time,” he sniffled peaking tears away. “Okay?”

He felt her untuck from his neck, her safe spot, in order to look at him properly for the first time since they left Tony’s house. As expected her eyes were bloodshot, exhausted and red, although there was also a tiny twitch, something hinting at a smile, of the corner of her lips that implicitly accepted Jake’s statement.

“Okay,” she nodded.

“I love you, Ames,” he tipped his head down evening out their height difference in order to press his forehead to hears. “And I’m so stupidly _in_ _love_ with you.”

Finally, this was what it took, a full smile broke out on her lips; a smile which Jake Peralta wasted no second reciprocating. It didn’t matter that the affectionate chuckle sliding off her lips was half-teary from the intense crying nor that her cheeks were still very much damp and puffy; Amy Santiago was wholeheartedly chuckling and this Jake Peralta had been dying to witness.

“And I know things aren’t turning out how we had hoped, at least not right now, but…” His fingers calmly, almost unconsciously, slid down to stroke her waist, his forehead still leaning against hers.

“… I’m never going to stop loving or being in love with you, Amy Santiago, so there’s no need to worry. We’ve got time… Time to hurt, time to laugh, time to fall down and then get back up again. It doesn’t feel like it now, which is so very okay… ” he pulled back to look right into her eyes, making sure to emphasize his point, “… But in the end, we’re going to be the ones in control of our lives: Not biology, not your mom, not anyone or anything else. If we want a child then that’s what we’ll have - one way or the other, I promise you.”

Tears were once more forming in her eyes although this time, to his relief, it appeared to be tears of joy rather than sadness. Being sad suddenly seemed so distant, so irrelevant, when she had a husband who loved her _that_ much.

“And, like I said and will continue to say for as long as you need to hear it: we don’t have to think about a final solution now.”

On one hand she wanted to say something, express and return the incredible amount of love he always provided, yet, on the other hand, the need to grab his face and pull him into the deepest kiss possible was stronger. This, by all means, resulted in Amy doing exactly so. Of course Jake responded to the gesture so naturally thus allowing his hands to freely roam her entire body, up, down and around. There was no stopping them. He loved her and she loved him. This she’d whisper, whimper, whine and moan into his ear, neck, lips and chest, multiple times in the course of the day’s final hours as they stumbled across the floor, through the doors of their apartment without a single care about the outside world.

That night, intertwined, showering each other with love and chasing away the remnants of despair, nothing else seemed of great, grave nor grievous importance. Maybe, yes, the hurting wasn’t entirely behind them yet, but even so, something about hurting for love and the life they wanted to build together seemed to make that fact acceptable. Hurting also meant they were fighting, ultimately meaning that they _weren’t giving up._

Hurting was hard, but also important for the process, and doing it together, thankfully, did the difference between unbearable and acceptable. 

Life was unpredictable, not everything was in their control, but, as long as they were with the right people, they could handle _anything_. And they were, since the very first day, stuck across from each other as bickering partners at the Nine-Nine, the right people for each other.


End file.
